Rough Play: A Football Romance

by Kira Ward

  But he’s given me a lot to think about.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Cricket

  “He’s so sexy!”

  “Mom!” I blush as I watch the same blush blossom over my mother’s face. “I can’t believe you just said that!”

  “It’s true,” Amelia admits. “I’ve been telling Cricket that since that soda commercial started airing.”

  “The one where he’s shirtless?”

  My mom makes this sound that moms should not make in front of their daughters. Especially when the cause of that sound is her daughter’s boyfriend. Amelia laughs while I turn my attention to the dishes.

  “I couldn’t believe when he just showed up at the front door. It’s weird having this man walk out of the television and appear on your front porch like that.”

  “Mom, he’s a human being just like everyone else.”

  “So is Tony Romo, but I don’t expect to open the door and find him standing there.”

  “I’m not dating Tony Romo.”

  “Yeah, well, your dad would be over the moon if you were.”

  I shake my head even as Amelia and my mom start laughing. I grab the wine bottle before Amelia can pour herself some more.

  “I think the two of you have had more than enough.”

  “It’s a holiday,” my mom says, snatching the bottle from my hand. She pours herself and Amelia another glass, but when she turns to my glass, she discovers that the last helping was still untouched.

  “What’s the matter with you? Not thirsty?”

  “She might want to keep her senses for her man,” Amelia says.

  My mom’s eyebrows rise. “I can understand that.” Then she and Amelia dissolve into giggles again.

  I drop a plate into the dishwasher, my head spinning as I straightened again. Moved too fast, I guess. I grab the edge of the sink, wishing I hadn’t eaten as much as I did. I was going to regret it later.

  “Do you think he’d sign an autograph?”

  I glance at Amelia. “Why?”

  “A couple of boys in my third period class are acting up. I thought if I had some sort of reward for them, they might work a little harder.”

  “Why don’t you ask Frank? I bet he could get you a bunch of signed pictures.”

  Her eyes light up.

  My mom looks from me to her, confusion knitting her brow. “Who’s Frank?”

  “Frank Peirce. He’s Magnus’ agent.”

  Mom regards Amelia with new respect. “You’re dating Magnus Fuller’s agent?”

  “Sort of. We went on one date, but it was a really nice date.”

  I look over at her, a smile creasing on my lips. I can tell just by the look on her face exactly what kind of date it was. She likes him. I hope he likes her, too.

  A comfortable silence falls between us. The dishwasher is full, so Mom moves up beside me to wash while I rinse. Amelia dries. We get into a good rhythm, working well together. And then my mom says something that makes my heart sort of stutter in my chest.

  “Does it bother you, the rumors and gossip that flies around the internet?”

  “What?”

  She won’t look at me. “I was just…I saw something about Magnus on the internet this morning. I thought you might say something, but you never did. Does it not bother you?”

  “I try not to look at the gossip too much.”

  She nods.

  “What did you see?”

  I shouldn’t have asked, but I can’t really help myself. She shrugs, but I know it’s something bad or else she wouldn’t have brought it up.

  “I saw it, too,” Amelia says softly.

  “What?”

  “It’s nothing, really,” she says. “Just some pictures of Magnus at a party Sunday night.”

  “Oh. I knew about that. He went out with some of the guys from the team.”

  “Yeah, that’s it.”

  I glance at Amelia because there’s something about the tone of her voice. “What about it?”

  There’s a new tension in the room. I can tell neither of them want to tell me what they saw. I’m about to push the issue when Magnus comes into the room. “The guys are asking when you’re cutting into the pies.”

  My mom chuckles. “It doesn’t take long for a heavy meal to melt off of them, does it?”

  “I’ll finish up in here, Momma,” I say. “You go ahead.”

  She leans into me and kisses my cheek lightly. Then she grabs Amelia’s hand and pulls her out of the room behind her.

  Magnus watches them go, a charming smile bringing a light to his dark eyes. “They’re something. They kept asking me all these questions before you got here, grilling me more intently than the cops would do if I committed a crime.”

  “They’re endlessly curious.”

  “They just worry about you.” He moves up behind me, sliding his hands around my belly. “They care about you.”

  I lean into his chest for a long moment, loving the feel of him pressed against my back. He feels solid. Alive. And the feel of his arms around me is how I imagine it would for a caterpillar to be wrapped up in a cocoon.

  “I miss you,” he whispers against my cheek. “Come to Cleveland with me.”

  “When?”

  “Now.”

  I turn in his arms and look up at him, my wet hands pressed to his chest. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I am.” He brushes a piece of hair that’s come loose from my ponytail out of my face. “My schedule is crazy before a game, but you can hang out with the other girls who travel with the team. And we’ll have time in the evenings to hang out. And I can probably get you into the game.”

  He leans in for a kiss, his lips lingering against mine as his hands move over my belly, the small of my back. I like the way his hands feel, like the taste of his kiss. The idea of spending three nights in a row with him is exciting. More than exciting. It feels like exactly what I need.

  “Okay.”

  “Yeah?” He runs his hand slowly over the side of my face, his fingers lingering on my bottom lip. “Do you think anyone would notice if we sneak out of here?”

  “Probably everyone. But let’s do it anyway.”

  He chuckles. “You’re my kind of girl.”

  The flight is long and slow. Perfect. I curl up against Magnus’ chest and we talk about everything from literature to teaching high school to the Cowboys’ season record to the weather. It doesn’t matter what we talk about. I just like hearing the sound of his voice, the little chuckles he offers when he thinks I’m teasing him. I love the way he stares into my eyes when I’m trying to make a point and the way he ignores the flight attendant even though she’s clearly trying to get his attention. I love everything about being with Magnus.

  It’s snowing when we get off the plane. There’s a car waiting for us with the heater going full blast. I shiver as I slide across the back seat. Magnus immediately slips out of his overcoat and wraps it around me like a blanket.

  Could it get any better than this?

  It’s well after one when we get to the hotel. Someone meets us at the front door and leads the way upstairs without requiring us to stop at the front desk. The room is a small suite, one of those with a sitting room that flows into the bedroom. I see the bed and my head immediately screams for sleep. The nausea hasn’t been as bad tonight as it’s been the last few nights, but the exhaustion is just as insistent as ever. But then his hands slide over me and I turn into him and…there’s exhaustion and then there’s this.

  He picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me to the bed. We kiss for a long while, just long, lingering kisses that are sexier than just about anything else he could possibly do to me. I tell myself that I should tell him, that I’ve had plenty of opportunity and I shouldn’t put it off any longer. But then his hand slips down the back of my jeans and I just can’t think of anything beyond the feel of his fingers searching for all those places that offer so much pleasure.

  He wants me. I can
feel it in the urgency of his touch, in the passion of his kiss. And that…how can I ignore that? It’s a simple answer. I can’t.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Magnus

  “Saw your pictures last night, Magnus,” Andrew, one of the safeties says to me.

  “Yeah, pretty impressive,” Kerry, a defensive end, says.

  I ignore them as I stow my practice gear in the locker I’ve been assigned here at FirstEnergy Stadium. They’ve been talking about it all morning, but this is the first time they’ve said anything to my face.

  “I heard you brought a girl here, Magnus,” Andrew continues. “Is it the same girl?”

  “Mind your business,” I snap, not really interested in having this conversation right now.

  I grab my duffle and head for the door. Coach stops me halfway to the door with a hand on my chest.

  “We need your head in the game this weekend, Magnus,” he says. “Don’t let anything off the field distract you.”

  “I won’t, Coach.”

  He gestures to the guys who were still snickering over what they thought was hot gossip. “Anything,” he says, stressing the word like it means something more than just those three simple syllables.

  I incline my head and walk away, anger dancing in my chest despite the control I show to the outside world. A car waits for me outside. I climb in, wishing I’d rented a car so that I could blow off a little steam with a little speed.

  She’s curled up on the couch in the sitting room when I walk in, dressed in nothing but a pair of panties and one of my t-shirts despite the fact that it’s well after three in the afternoon. Her hair is wet like she just got out of the shower and she’s staring at her phone, swiping through pages on the internet like she’s studying the holy grail or something.

  I drop my bag by the door and lift her up, taking her seat and settling her down on my lap.

  “Do you often lounge around in your underwear all day?”

  “When I’m not in school I do.” She switches off her phone and leans back to kiss me. “You didn’t tell me what we were going to do today, so I didn’t know how to dress.”

  “I don’t think you need a lot of clothes for what I want to do.”

  I slide my hands under the t-shirt to stress my point. She hisses a little when my hands move over her breasts.

  “Are they sore?” I ask.

  “A little.”

  “Sorry.”

  I drop my hands back down to her belly, slowly moving down toward her panties. She opens her legs a little, giving me just enough room to slip my fingers inside. I brush my fingertip against her clit and she groans, her hand sliding down over mine. I press my finger deep inside of her and she moves her hand over mine, guiding me to all the places she wants me to touch. I kiss her shoulder, nibble at her throat. She leans back, her eyes closed, a sigh slipping from between her full lips.

  “I love your body,” I whisper. “I love touching you.”

  She abruptly pulls away and stands, taking the bottom edge of the shirt in her hands and playing with it, stretching the soft material down hard against her breasts and moving it so that her nipples look like they’re dancing.

  “Do you want to see me?” she asks.

  “Definitely.”

  She turns her back to me and sticks out her bottom a little, lifting the shirt so that I get a lovely view of her slender hips. Then she drops it again, turning to face me as she makes the shirt dance again.

  I sit up a little straighter, more turned on than I think I’ve ever been. I want to grab her, pull her down beneath me and fuck her until neither of us can move. But I also want to watch this show and see how far she’ll take it.

  She dances around to a song only she can hear, moving her hips and manipulating the shirt, tugging it down hard over her body, then letting it lose, flowing over her hard nipples so freely that I can barely see them. She lifts her hair up off her shoulders, then lets it fall down over her fingers, dancing like a woman who hasn’t a care in the world. She makes me hurt.

  I go to her, slip my hands over her body as we both begin to move to the rhythm she’s set. When I grab the bottom of the shirt, she lifts her arms and lets me pull it from her body. But then she moves away, dancing a few feet in front of me, her arms covering the beautiful mounds of her breasts.

  “You’re killing me, baby,” I tell her.

  She smiles. “Do you want me?”

  “Is that a trick question?’

  “I want you to say it, Magnus.”

  There’s something in her voice that tells me she isn’t teasing me anymore. I go to her, push her back against the low wall that separates the bedroom from the sitting room as I take her face in my hands.

  “I want you,” I say as I stare into her eyes. “I’ve been with a lot of women, but I’ve never really wanted any of them the way I want you.”

  There’s nothing for her to say. She looks up at me and I know that I’ve said the right thing. I tell myself it’s just a line, just a way to get what I want. But I know it’s not right. Not really. Even as I say the words, I know how true they are. It’s always been about the physical with other women. It’s always been about pleasure, about that release. But not with Cricket. When I think about Cricket, I want more than just the feel of her skin under my hands. I want to see that come hither look in her eyes, hear the moans of pleasure on her lips, feel the desperation in her touch. I want to look at her and see her soul in her eyes when she reaches her climax.

  And that scares me.

  She pulls me to her and kisses me, her touch lingering. I grab the edges of her panties and rip them away, suddenly needing to be inside her as soon as possible. I lift her up, set her precariously on the narrow ledge of that low lying wall, sliding inside of her before she’s even completely settled. She wraps her legs around me, pulling me closer to her, her hands twisted in my shirt. We move quickly, the need too overwhelming to ignore. I feel as though I haven’t been with a woman in years even though we lay together just last night. There’s just something about Cricket that makes it impossible for me to get enough, to feel the sort of satisfaction that would allow me to walk away from this. From her.

  I cry out as I explode inside of her. I know she hasn’t reached her climax, I know without even seeing the kind, but disappointed look on her face. I pull away, quickly undress before scooping her up in my arms. I carry her to the bed, my hand slipping between her legs before we even fall against the mattress. A well-placed fingertip and she begins to squirm even as I press my mouth to hers. She has to pull away when her orgasm comes upon her, her breaths coming in quick, harsh gasps.

  I roll on top of her as she’s still reeling from the pleasure, sliding inside of her like the prodigal son coming home. I don’t move as the waves continue to wash over her, just sit inside of her and soak up the lovely side effects of her orgasm. Only when she begins to come out the other side do I begin to move, rolling my hips against her as she finally focuses on me, as she reaches up and pulls me down to her, kissing me like a drowning woman seeking that one, last breath.

  Every moment with her is intense. I want to lie like that until they come to throw us out of this hotel. But then the waves build again and I’m not strong enough to hold them back. This time we reach that pinnacle at almost the same moment. She buries her mouth against my shoulder, her screams vibrating through my body while I let my screams fly free, filling the room with the joy of our fucking.

  I don’t know what I thought I was doing before. This…there’s nothing better than this.

  I wake late in the night and automatically reach for her. She’s not there, but there’s a thin line of light coming from under the bathroom door.

  I sit up and run my fingers through my hair. My phone, forgotten on the coffee table in the sitting room, is blinking frantically with a message alert. I get up and grab it, nearly groaning aloud when I see the message is from Frank. I know what it’s about. I’ve avoided telling him about the photographer a
t the party last week just like I’ve avoided telling Cricket about it.

  Call me, is all the message says.

  The bathroom door opens and Cricket comes stumbling out, snapping off the light so that I can’t see her for a second as my eyes adjust to the sudden brightness and then the darkness again.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says, climbing back into bed.

  I go to her, dragging her back against my chest. She lets me hold her, but there’s some tension in her body.

  “Let’s just stay in bed for the rest of our lives,” I suggest.

  She smiles, kissing my arm lightly. “Wouldn’t we start to stink a little.”

  “We could get up to shower and eat once in a while.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  I kiss her shoulder, letting my tongue play with that place near her throat that tends to drive her nuts.

  She sighs. “What about tomorrow? Didn’t you say something about a team dinner tomorrow night?”

  “We can skip it. It’s not mandatory.”

  “Don’t you want to introduce me to your teammates?”

  “They already think they know everything they need to know about you.”

  She relaxes against me a little more, her hand moving up and down the length of my arm. “Okay,” she says softly as she begins to fall asleep again.

  I hold her until she’s good and sound, reluctant to let her go. I lay there for a long time, watching her sleep. I don’t want to let her go. I like having her here, like feeling her body against mine when I sleep.

  I never imagined I’d like sharing a bed with another person. But this…there’s a lot about Cricket I think I might like.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Cricket

  I sit restlessly on the couch, watching the snow dance outside the windows as I wait for Magnus come back to the hotel. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him. Am I just looking for a reason not to tell him the truth?

  A part of me had hoped he’d hear me getting sick in the middle of the night last night and he would ask. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to spit the words out myself, that he would ask and all I’d have to do was confirm it.